


May 8

by shesasurvivor (starkist)



Series: Dandelions and Fire Mutts [8]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Canon Compliant, F/M, Gen, Post-Mockingjay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1586267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkist/pseuds/shesasurvivor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>May 8th is Katniss Everdeen's birthday! To be updated every year with a fic in honor of this date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 2014

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to Katniss Everdeen! To celebrate, I wrote a little birthday oneshot. I plan to update this every year on May 8. So enjoy this year's story!

I wake up before the sun rises, just like I always do. It’s the best time to hunt. But this morning, I don’t throw back the sheets and reach for my old leather boots, still molded to my feet after all these years. Really, when you think about it, it’s surprising they still fit. Especially now that I’m 20 years old.

That’s why I don’t move from my bed this morning. Today is my birthday. My 20th birthday at that. Normally I’m not one to make a big deal out of my birthday, but this one is kind of a big deal. Two decades I’ve been alive, and considering I’ve been through two rounds of the Hunger Games and a war, it’s a miracle I’ve made it this far. I think a morning where I lounge around in bed is justified. So I stretch out, then turn on my side and nuzzle up close to Peeta’s body, relishing in the comfort his warmth gives me.

The action wakes him from his sleep. He smiles as he looks over at him, and wraps an arm around me protectively, holding me close. “Happy birthday,” he says.

“Thanks,” I smile back.

He leans in and gives me a tender kiss. “Twenty,” he says after he pulls away. “Kind of a big deal, huh?”

I smile at the way he echoes my own thoughts. “Yeah,” I say. “Who’d have thought we’d make it to twenty?”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “You going hunting?”

“I don’t know.” I give him a suggestive look. “I was thinking I might just stay here.”

To my surprise, Peeta sits up and looks at me in alarm. “No!” he says. “You need to go!”

“Why?” I ask, shooting him a puzzled look. This was not the reaction I was expecting from him, especially when I know he’s closed his baking business for the day. “I thought you’d want to spend the morning together. You know… in bed.”

I see the corners of his mouth twitch; his eyebrow lifts just a little. But he holds his resolve. “You should go hunting,” he insists. But he can from the look on my face tell I’m not convinced. “Just… just go. Take a long time. I have things I need to do here.” He emphasizes the last bit all while looking just a little too innocent.

“Really?” I ask, playing along. “Like what?”

“Oh, just stuff at the bakery.” he says.

“I thought you said you were closing the bakery today.”

“I am,” he admits. “But there was a special order due today. Very important.” He leans in closer and whispers in good-natured conspiration. “Rumor has it that it’s for the Mockingjay’s birthday.”

I roll my eyes and hit him playfully, because he knows how much I dislike still being associated with that title. But I can’t be mad at him, not today when I can tell he has something special planned. “Okay,” I agree as I kick back the sheets and head to the closet to change. “I’ll leave you to your important business.” I pull on my boots and move to leave.

“Wait!” he calls, sitting up suddenly. “You’re forgetting something.”

I pause mid-step and turn back to him, expecting a request for a kiss or something. But all he says is, “your hair.”

Biting back a grin, I plant myself on the edge of the bed and braid my hair. “Happy?” I ask over my shoulder when I’m finished.

“Very,” he nods, looking superior. But when I try again to leave, he grabs my arm and pulls me back for a long kiss. He’s still warm from the bed and the feel of it makes me want to stay here forever. Which I wanted to do in the first place, except he’s the one kicking me out for whatever surprise he has planned. He pulls away with a happy sigh and gives me a contented smile.

“Peeta,” I murmur, lightly touching my lips where the feel of the kiss still lingers.

“Hmm?” He raises his brows.

My mouth twists up into a smirk. “You need to brush your teeth.”

“Hey!” he cries indignantly as I leap off the bed. “You’re not one to talk!”

I laugh as I close the door behind me.

The sun still hasn’t risen by the time I get outside, but already I can tell that it’s going to be a warm day. I’m glad that Peeta reminded me to braid my hair, because it’ll keep it off my neck and help keep me cooler.

It doesn’t take long for me to cross through town and out into the wilderness. The first thing I decide to do is check the snares. It doesn’t take me anywhere near as long to do this as it used to, now that I’m the only one working them, and snares were never my strong point. When I tried resetting some of the old ones Gale set up years ago, I couldn’t figure out how he had them configured, and had to do the best with the limited knowledge I have. Though that did improve some in the training for the Quell.

My stomach sinks a little at the thought of Gale and the Games, just like it always does when I think about those things.  I’ve finally gotten used to being out here alone, but every so often I’ll still turn around and expect him to be standing behind me. Grinning at the rabbit that wandered into our snare, or teasing me about the turkey I shot down. I can’t lie--there’s a part of me that wishes he could be here today. It’s the small part of the old Katniss that’s still leftover from before everything that happened that wishes that. The part that just wants her friend back, before a war, a bomb, and a couple of trips to the arena drove them apart. Not that I would trade what I have with Peeta for all that--I wouldn’t trade him for the world. Especially not after having already lost him once.

That isn’t what I miss about Gale, anyway. I realize now that Peeta always had my heart in a way that Gale never did. It’s the friendship I miss. I wonder what he would think of me now, at 20 years old. If there could have been a part of him that wasn’t consumed by jealousy that would have been amused by the irony of me living with a boyfriend; sharing my bed with him. Or even that I have one at all.

But I’ll never know. Because he’s gone now, and never coming back. He’s busy anyways, if the reports I see on the news are accurate. And I suspect they are.

When I’m done with the snares, I roam the hills, checking the lines for fish, gathering some of the strawberries that have already begun to sprout, and picking off game with my bow as I come across it. By noon, I have a pretty decent haul. It’s more than enough for dinner for Peeta and me, though who knows what he’s got planned already. But we can save it, or sell what we don’t need. I wonder if he’s had enough time? I try to procrastinate longer by double and triple checking the snares and fishing lines, but eventually I run out of things to do. Peeta’s just going to have to be done with whatever it is he’s got planned.

When I finally make it home, I stand at the door for a minute, trying to decide what to do. Should I knock? It’s my own house, so that seems a little silly. I decide to go ahead and open the door myself, though I do so cautiously. “Peeta?” I call out as I enter. There’s no answer. I check the rest of the house, but aside from his breakfast dishes in the sink and the fact that our bed is made, there’s no sign of him anywhere. I’m standing in our room, trying to figure out my next move, when I hear the door open on the first floor, followed by heavy footsteps. Someone is in the house.

Immediately I go downstairs, though I do so cautiously. There’s no particular reason to feel unsafe, but it’s impossible not to feel paranoid after the Games. But my fear is in vain, because it’s Haymitch who is waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs.

“Kid sent me over to get you,” he says gruffly. “Apparently it’s your birthday.”

“It is,” I say.

“Well, don’t just stand there then. Come on.” He turns and without even checking to see if I’m following, heads back outside. I head after him.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“You’ll see,” he calls over his shoulder.

It turns out we’re going to Peeta’s old house. Well, technically it still is his house, but since we live together now he really only uses it to run his bakery business and for storage. But whatever he has planned for today, apparently he has planned at his house. That explains why he closed the bakery today, and didn’t just leave it to his assistant to run instead.

Just before he opens the door, Haymitch turns towards me. “He worked really hard on this, so try to act like you like it, okay?”

I shoot Haymitch a dirty look, and am just about to give some retort about how I don’t need to be told how to make Peeta happy, when he opens the door, cutting me off before I get a chance to do so. A whiff of something sweet greets me; it’s obvious Peeta’s been baking something to celebrate my birthday. I step into the kitchen, where he stands beaming at me. And next to him stands my mother.

We regard each other in silence for a minute. Then she steps forward, arms stretched out, and embraces me. “Happy birthday, Katniss,” she whispers as she kisses the side of my head.

“I didn’t think you would be here.” My mother has only returned to 12 twice since the end of the war. She’s busy with her new life in 4, and the memories are still too much for her to handle. So to see her here today is something special.

“Peeta picked me up this morning. We’ve been planning it for weeks.” So that’s why Peeta wanted me out of here for a while. He was going to the train station to bring home my mother. And not just her, either.  Johanna and Annie, along with Annie’s and Finnick’s toddler son, are both here as well.

“Happy birthday, brainless,” Johanna says as Annie embraces me. I grin at her over Annie’s shoulder.

“Glad you could make it,” I tell her.

“Yeah… you owe me.” I laugh.

The party lasts the rest of the afternoon, and well into the evening. It’s wonderful seeing all our remaining friends gathered here in one room, especially since it’s for a happy occasion for once. But eventually I wander out on the porch, gazing into the warm night stretching out around me. Not long after, a familiar tread comes up from behind, and Peeta wordlessly joins me. He makes no attempt at conversation or anything. All he does is wrap an arm around my shoulders. I rest my head against his shoulder.

“Thank you for the party,” I say.

“I hope you liked it,” he says.

“I do… “ I try to pick my words carefully. “I’m just… sad about those who couldn’t be here.”

Peeta tightens his grip around me. “I know,” he says quietly. “It’s been on my mind, too.”

“Especially since I’m 20 years old,” I continue. “It feels wrong, Peeta. Why should I get to reach 20, and she couldn’t?!”

“I know,” Peeta says again. “But remember what Dr. Aurelius told us? We can’t beat ourselves up for surviving.”

“Yeah… “

“Besides. We made a vow that we would live our lives well for them. Remember?”

“He’s right, brainless,” Johanna says, coming up beside me. “They died so our lives could be better. It would be rude not to go on for their sakes.”

They both have a point. So, with Peeta’s arm still draped around me, I turn and go back into the party. And I really do enjoy it. Because somewhere out there, maybe Prim and my father, and Finnick, and Rue, Peeta’s family, and all those lost to the Games and the war, are watching from wherever they are. And they would want me to go on. To be happy, even. So I let Peeta feed me his cake, and the special bubbly wine he ordered from the Capitol. And when we bid goodnight to our guests - Haymitch back to his house, my mother, Johanna, Annie and her son staying at Peeta’s - we cross back to our place where Peeta and I do a little celebrating of our own.

“Here’s to another 20,” Peeta whispers to me when we’re done. “May they be more uneventful than the last.”

 


	2. 2015

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Everdeen and Katniss spend a day in the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe a year has gone by already! Happy birthday, Katniss Everdeen!

“Katniss,” the tall man with dark hair gently calls out, lightly shaking her arm. The little girl stirs, then lets out a little groan as she awakens.

“It’s time to go. Are you ready, Katniss?”

This gets her attention. She sits straight up in bed, though she is careful not to disturb her sleeping sister, curled up tight next to her. Mr. Everdeen knows that if Katniss were to accidentally awaken the younger girl, she would not forgive herself for a long time. Katniss takes her duty as an older sister very seriously.

She pulls on a pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt, a pair of shoes. It’s late Spring, so the mornings are warm enough that she probably won’t need a jacket, though she ties one around her waist just to be on the safe side. Before long, they’re at the fence at the edge of the Seam. Mr. Everdeen keeps watch, while she wriggles her way under the fence, and over to the other side. Once she’s safely through, he follows.

“Where are we going now, Daddy?” she asks as she slips her hand into his, so tiny in his much larger palm.

“It’s a surprise,” he says, grinning down at her.

“We’re going to the lake, aren’t we?” she says, sounding so sure of herself.

Mr. Everdeen just lets out a laugh. “Well, Katniss, I can’t tell you if that’s true or not, because that would ruin the surprise!”

“It’s the lake,” she says again, confident.

They walk through the woods for some time, stopping first to retrieve his bows and a quiver of arrows. He’s surprised her legs are able to carry her the entire trip to the lake, because he knows it’s a distance and it takes some time to get there. But Katniss has always had a toughness to her that he’s had to admire. The closer they get, the more he can sense Katniss’s excitement. With every familiar landmark they pass by, she lets out a little huff, each one proving that she was right about her theory.

As soon as the first silvery glimpse of the water comes into view, she bursts out with a, “I knew it was the lake!” Letting go of his hand, she runs as fast as she can towards the clearing. “Daddy, can I go swimming? Can I?” she asks over and over.

Mr. Everdeen holds his chin with one hand, as though he’s thinking things over. “Well, now… “ he says. “I suppose six is old enough to learn how to swim.”

She lets out a cheer of triumph.

“Not yet, though, Katniss,” he tells her before she has a chance to escape down to the water’s edge. “It’ll be too cold to go in right now. Let’s find food while we wait for it to warm up.”

“Can I shoot?” she asks eagerly.

Mr. Everdeen lets out a laugh. “If you’re good,” he tells her.

“I will be!” she promises.

He does let her practice a little, on the smaller bow that’s more appropriate for her size. She practices shooting at trees and rocks, but not animals. Her aim isn’t quite good enough for that just yet, though it won’t be long before it is. She already shows remarkable talent for a beginner. Mr. Everdeen is confident that one day, she’ll be a skilled archer. For now, though, she’s already losing interest in the task. She abandons the bow and heads for the only remaining cabin he’s pretty sure is a remnant from another lifetime. This is just what he needs. She’ll play house with that rickety old broom made of branches, and he can shoot something for their special dinner that night.

The sun is just about straight overhead by the time he’s satisfied with his haul, and heads over to the little cabin. He knocks on the door, knowing his daughter would chastise him for letting his manners slip if he forgot to do so.

“Who is it?” she calls, though she knows darn well who it is.

“Just a stranger come by to say hello. I heard a little girl is celebrating a special day here!” he calls in. He hears her giggle, and she comes forward to the door.

“Daddy, you know it’s my birthday,” she tells him with a grin.

“Is it?” he asks, feigning astonishment. “Well, that seems to call for something special, don’t you think?”

“Yes!!” she yells, almost jumping up and down with excitement.

“First, we have one more important task we need to accomplish. Do you think you can help me with it?”

“Yes!” she says promptly. “What is it?”

“Your mother needs us to bring her the biggest, juiciest, tastiest berries we can find, so she can make dessert.”

She cheers, and the two take off for the trees where they scrounge around for berries. “Are these okay, Daddy?” she calls out every so often, showing a plump red strawberry, or a ripe blueberry, or any other of the number of different berries that can be found in these wooods. He approves them, and she adds them to the growing pile sitting in an old rag he’ll use to carry them back.

“What about this?” she asks, holding a dark, round one out to it. He frowns at the sight, and leans forward to get a closer look. Yes, they’re exactly what he thought they were.

“Not these, Katniss. Never these. You’ll be dead before they reach your stomach.”

Katniss immediately drops them, looking horrified. “Will it kill me to touch them?” she asks.

“No,” he smiles. “Just as long as none of the juice got on your hand, and then you put your hand in your mouth.”

“What if it got on my hand?” she asks, holding them out as far from her as she possibly can. “Can we go to the lake and wash them off?”

He has to laugh at this. He glances at their pile of berries--yes, it should be enough to take home with them.

“Sure,” he promises her. “It’s time for that swimming lesson I promised you, anyway.”

With a happy yelp, she races down to the lake. They spend the next hour playing in the water. He shows her a paddle to keep herself afloat in the water, and the basic stroke. Mostly, though, they play around, laughing and splashing in the sun.

By the time they’ve finished, and made the trip back to the fence at the edge of District 12, it’s already midafternoon. It doesn’t take long for them to reach their home, since it’s not far from the fence in the Seam.

Katniss bursts through the front door first, and races towards her mother, who beams and holds her arms out to scoop her up in a big hug. “Happy birthday, Katniss!” she gushes, while 1-year-old Prim totters around happily next to them.

“Daddy taught me how to swim!” she announces proudly.

Mrs. Everdeen looks impressed. “Is that why I barely recognized you when you came in?” she asks. “Because you’re so clean!”

“No,” Katniss giggles.

“Or maybe it’s just because you’re so grown up now,” she says. Katniss giggles again.

“She’ll be running things around here before you know it,” Mr. Everdeen says, giving his wife a kiss. He hands her the rag full of the berries they gathered, and sorts out some of the rest of his spoils.

“Not these,” he says, separating out a couple of squirrels. “I’m saving these for something special.” She gives him a knowing look, then takes the goods and begins to work on dinner.

“Katniss,” Mr. Everdeen says, “there’s one more place I need to go. Would you like to come with me?”

She nods eagerly, and races after her father out the door. This time, they head in the opposite direction from the fence.

When they reach the bakery, the two youngest Mellark boys are wrestling each other underneath the scraggly old apple tree in their backyard. They stop at the sight of them; the youngest’s blue eyes immediately land on Katniss and don’t move away. They do this every time she comes around, and Mr. Everdeen knows a crush when he sees it. But Katniss is too young, and he’s glad that she doesn’t seem to notice it.

The older boy has more practical matters on his mind. He doesn’t say a word to either of them, but immediately his mouth opens and calls out for his father. He runs inside the bakery, with the younger one following behind. After a minute, the door opens again, and out steps the baker, Mr. Mellark.

Mr. Everdeen holds out his bag. “I have a couple of squirrels here,” he says.

All Mr. Mellark does is nod his head. He disappears inside his bakery. When he reappears, he has two loaves of bread under his arms. They trade the squirrels for the bread, their short transaction finished, and then Mr. Everdeen and Katniss are on their way home again.

At home, his wife happily adds the bread to the meal she’s cooking. Later that night, they gorge themselves on the meal. Each of them take turns hugging their daughter, their first born, the product of their love for each other. Prim joins in, too, hugging her sister periodically as she follows their lead.

**  
**They fall asleep quickly that night. As he tucks her in, Mr. Everdeen plants a kiss on Katniss’s forehead. “Happy birthday, Katniss,” he murmurs.


	3. 2016

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mrs. Everdeen had her own concerns about becoming a mother. Katniss's birth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are again, another May 8 already. Happy birthday to the Girl on Fire! This year, since the 8th falls on Mother's Day, I decided to focus on Mrs. Everdeen, and how giving birth to Katniss made her a mother.

“I think,” he said late one night, as they lay together in their bed, “that I’d like to have children one day.” He looked over at her, hopeful, searching her eyes for the agreement, possibly even excitement, that she knew he wanted to see there.

 

Instead, she felt something twist inside her stomach. She knew he wanted children. She knew this all along--she was aware when she agreed to leave her home in town and move with him to the Seam as his wife. She wasn’t sure how she thought it would turn out, but up until now, she had been able to keep him content with it being just the two of them, while she kept herself safely childless using her knowledge of which plants would provide the best birth control methods.

 

When she didn’t answer, she saw his face drop a little. But he kept that optimistic glint in his eye that made her love him so much. “Don’t you agree?” he asked.

 

“You- you know how I feel,” she said softly. She had seen what had happened to the Donner family when her friend Maysilee had died in the Quarter Quell only a few short years prior. Her twin sister had never quite been the same. Winning didn’t seem to be much better, either, if Haymitch Abernathy was any indication. Bad luck seemed to have followed him around ever since he returned. First, his mother and brother both died from the flu, or so they said. There had been talk going around town that it had been something else that had killed them, though, something more sinister. This rumor seemed to gain legitimacy when Haymitch’s girlfriend had shown up dead shortly after. Barely anyone saw Haymitch anymore these days. He lived up in Victor’s Village, with only Wolfmark Selkirk, the other District 12 victor, for company.

 

“I do know, Lily,” he told her. “But we can’t let the Games keep us from living our lives. Then they win.”

 

“Shh!” she warned, glancing around nervously. Even there, in what should be the privacy of their own home, one could never be too sure they weren’t being recorded. Things were a little more lax out here in the Seam than they had been for the Merchants when she lived in town, but the paranoia from growing up in that environment had never quite gone away. The whipping posts were only a few short few away from the entrance to the apothecary. Her husband had never seen what happened when the Capitol suspected citizens of treason in the up close way that she had.

 

Even in the dark, she could see the disappointment clouding in her husband’s grey eyes. “It’s true,” he told her. “They don’t get to silence us in our own homes.”

 

This was exactly like him. He wasn’t outright rebellious; no, he was smarter than that, and more practical. He knew the Peacekeepers would come for him if he wasn’t careful. But there had always been something subtly rebellious about him, from the way he snuck into the woods to go hunting, right down to the very way he had courted her, a member of the Merchant class, when he himself was Seam. And it had worked. She had fallen head over heels for him, and she would never regret her decision to marry him for one minute. He was the best thing to have ever happened to her, regardless of what she had to give up in order to be with him. But it scared her half to death, the things he said and did sometimes.

 

She was silent for a moment. “I just… need more time,” she told him at last.

  
  


It was another six months before she finally agreed to try. It was soon apparent how well the birth control measures had done their job. She had conceived shortly after giving them up.

 

In some ways, Lily Everdeen was grateful that it had been August when she conceived her child. With the baby due in May, she would miss the brunt of the summer. This was her first child, but enough time in the shops had made her aware of how hard it was to be in the later stages of pregnancy in the summer months. But the Games had ended only a few short weeks ago, and they were still fresh in her mind. Neither of 12’s tributes had made it. They rarely ever did. Haymitch had been the district’s first victor in ages; before him, there had only been Wolfmark, and he had won ages ago. Being reaped for the Games in District 12 was nothing short of a death sentence. They haunted her now, this year’s tributes. It had been a girl from town, whose blonde hair reminded her so much of Maysilee’s… or worse, her own. The male tribute had been from the Seam, and she had tried not to draw comparisons between him and her own husband.

 

There was nothing she could do when images of them both shook her awake in the dead of night. Either of them could be her own child one day, plucked from her life and shipped off to die for the Capitol’s entertainment. Now that she was actually pregnant, and this child was real, she cried at least once a day over this fear.

 

Things got a little easier as she got further along, at least for a little while. Her stomach swelled, and for a time in the Fall she even allowed herself to feel happiness over the impending birth, and she and her husband prepared for the arrival. They were having a Spring baby, but it was never too early to prepare. Not when you live in the Seam, at least. Things could only be bought little at a time, they had so little money to buy with.

 

Winter was especially harsh that year. It was all they could do to stay alive, and keep the baby alive as well. Her husband would come home often late at night, having taken time after his shifts in the mines to try to catch something in the woods. If he could, he might attempt to trade it, usually having the most success with the baker, whose wife was also pregnant. He supposed the baker felt a little more sympathetic than most because of this. Lily didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth.

 

It was around this time that their baby began moving. She froze with panic the first time she felt it, until she realized there was nothing wrong with the baby. Those were its feet, and it was kicking.

 

“She’s going to be a lively one,” he told her as he watched the bumps moving around on her stomach one day. “We’re going to have our hands full with this one.”

 

“You think she’s a girl?” she asked, looking at him curiously.

 

“She has to be,” he grinned at her. “With all that spirit.”

 

Lily melted at the look on his face. “I hope she looks like you, even if she is a girl.”

 

He snorted. “I want her to look like you,” he said. “Two beautiful blondes running around this place.”

 

“She would certainly stand out,” she agreed, though she wasn’t entirely convinced that was a good thing. 

 

“She’ll be Seam, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he told her. “You can be sure of that. It gets in deeper than even the coal dust.”

 

It was early May when she finally went into labor. With no one left from her old days in town, she had only the help of a few old housewives from the Seam to help her bring the baby into the world. He ran home from the mines as soon as he got word, and paced anxiously, jumping every time he heard his wife scream in pain.

 

May 8. That was her birthday. Their little girl--and she was a girl, he had been right about that--arrived with clear, strong cries that could probably move the entire nation of Panem, her parents were convinced.

 

“She’s good and strong, that one,” one of the Seam wives told them. “With that set of lungs, you can tell. She’ll survive anything.”

 

“I hope so,” her husband said, as the other wife placed the baby, wrapped in what ragged bunches of blankets they had handy, into Lily Everdeen’s arms. As she looked into her daughter’s grey eyes, the same eyes she had inherited from her father, her heart melted. She couldn’t stop staring.

 

“I love you,” she murmured to the bundle. Had she ever loved anything as much as her little girl? She wasn’t sure she had. In this moment, she didn’t know how she had ever turned down the opportunity to be a mother. 

 

“What should we call her?” he asked, leaning over them. She could hear the smile in his voice.

 

“I don’t know,” Lily almost sang her answer. “I’d like to keep the flower names that are my family’s tradition.”

 

There was silence while they mulled it over. “What about… Katniss?” he offered.

 

“Katniss,” she tried it out. “Katniss Everdeen. Are you a Katniss?”

 

The baby gurgled in response.

 

“Katniss,” Lily repeated. “I like it. It fits her.”

 

“I think so too,” he said. “Our little Katniss Everdeen.”

 

Lily smiled, and held her Katniss close. She was a mother now. Nothing in the world would ever make her as happy as this moment right here with her little girl. 

 

She was sure of it.


	4. 2017

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mockingjay's birthday has been declared a national holiday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday to the Girl on Fire!

“What?” I nearly shout, clutching the paper tightly in both hands.

From the table, Peeta looks up from a drawing he’s been working on for the last hour. “Hmm?” he asks absentmindedly. I don’t answer, still too absorbed in the letter to process a response. This, ironically, captures Peeta’s full response as he forgets the drawing on the table. “Katniss, what is it?” he asks more urgently.

I didn’t even know how to begin to respond. “They… they’re turning my birthday into a national holiday. In honor of me.” Finally, I manage to tear my eyes away to look at him.

Peeta’s face is blank for a minute as he processes this. Then, over the course of several seconds, I see the sense of confusion, understanding, and then even anger settle in on his expression. “They’re what?” he asks

“You heard me,” I snap, and turn towards the counter, where I lay the letter out flat to examine it. I don’t mean to take this out on Peeta, but I’m so upset over this news that it comes out that way whether I mean for it to or not.

He takes it in stride, though. After a few minutes of silence, he speaks again. “It’s not surprising, I guess,” he says quietly. “Did they say when it takes effect?”

I turn around, locking eyes with him. There’s so much I want to say, so many feelings I want to put into words. But in the end, there’s only one thing I’m able to get out. “This year,” I say, my voice sounding as small as I feel.

Peeta’s eyes widen. “Your birthday is only a few weeks away. And they’re just now springing this on you?”

“Yeah,” I nod, not even sure how to explain the rest to him.

“Well, that’s nice of them to let you know,” he says sarcastically. “Maybe you can catch the celebrations they throw for you on TV.”

I swallow, trying to figure out how to put the next part of this into words. It’s not that it’s embarrassing, or something I think he would be upset over. Actually, if anything, once he gets past the initial irritation, he’ll probably be thrilled for one big reason. But I’m having a hard time telling him… it feels too good to be true. It can’t be right. “They… they say they’d like for me to be there,” I say at last.

Peeta reacts exactly the way I predicted he would. “They what?” He barks, anger flashing across his eyes again. But a second later, the full implications sink in. His expression quickly changes from angry to excited to quizzical. “They’re letting you leave 12?”

“I guess so.” I try to keep my voice as even as possible, but even I can hear the way it wavers.

He leans back in his chair and studies me. “Well… what do you think?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.” That’s not quite true, though. Several thoughts at once are running through my head. Why all of a sudden? Can this be real? Them honoring my birthday like this… but more importantly, them giving me freedom. Or are they? Is this really freedom, or is this a one-time clearance to go back to the Capitol for one of their ceremonies? It seems like something they would do.

“Do you want to go?” Peeta asks me.

Again, I give a shrug. “Do I really have a choice?”

“No,” he admits with a frown. “Probably not.”

 

 

  
Three weeks later, we stand waiting, hand in hand, at the district’s landing pad while we wait for the hovercraft to whisk us off to the Capitol. We’re not alone. Haymitch has been invited as well. He stands behind us, barely awake and grumbling under his breath about who knows what. Both Peeta and I ignore him.

“Well, it beats going by train, I guess,” Peeta comments.

“Yeah,” I agree. Before I can get another comment in, though, the hovercraft materializes above us, and touches down on the launchpad. My hand still grasped firmly in his, Peeta leads us onboard, Haymitch in tow. We take our seats, buckle in, and then the hovercraft is in the air again immediately.

From the window, I can see the trees and buildings grow smaller beneath us. Exactly like what a bird could see. For a minute, I’m brought back to the very first time I ever rode in one of these, when we were delivered to the arena before the Games. I remember thinking the same thing then, about the birds. Ironic, me being the Mockingjay and all. I wonder if this trip will really be much better than that one was. Sure, I won’t be delivered to almost certain death. But maybe the real mockingjays will always have more freedom than I ever will.

I also catch sight of the train tracks as they weave in and out from beneath the trees. I wonder if we’ll be following them the whole way to the Capitol. I glance over at Peeta, who looks at me with a reassuring smile. I don’t think he’s much more optimistic about this whole thing than I am, but he’s trying to be strong for me. I rest my head on his shoulder, and he brings his arm up to wrap around me. Still thinking about those tracks underneath us, a thought occurs to me.

“This is the first time we’ve gone to the Capitol together since the Quell,” I say, looking up at him.

He lifts his brow as he thinks about it. Maybe he’s even searching his mind to determine if he can trust the memory or not. “You’re right,” he says at last. “It’s always just been me.”

Peeta has taken trips to back the Capitol by himself over the last few years, usually for check ups with Dr. Aurelius, who likes to look at him in person every so often. But I’ve never gone with him, thanks to the sentence confining me to District 12. This will be the first time I’ve been back since the war ended. Peeta looks at me now like he knows exactly what I’m thinking. But if he has any opinions of his own, he doesn’t voice them. He just pulls me closer to him, and kisses me on the forehead.

 

 

The Capitol has changed since I’ve been here. Oh, the basic structure of the city is still the same, and I recognize a lot of the buildings. But there is something remarkably different, too. The first thing I notice is how everyone is dressed. Sure, they are still far more flamboyant here than we would ever be back home. But the fashions are quite a bit subdued compared to how they used to be. There are also a lot of people who are dressed normally. I wonder if these are people who used to live in the districts.

I’m both surprised and relieved when they building our car pulls up to isn’t the old training center, where they used to keep us before the Games. The last time I was there was when I was in solitary confinement for months. I figured that would be where they would make us stay, since it’s where we always stayed before. But I guess things are different now. One thing is the same, though. As the car comes to a stop, a familiar figure in a bright green wig stands to greet us. Effie. She greets us in her standard peppy vein, but I’m barely out of the car before she pulls me into her arms for a tight hug.

“You look wonderful, dear,” she tells me, and am I imagining it? Or does she actually have tears in her eyes? She turns and pulls Peeta into a hug before I can really get a good look. She refrains from hugging Haymitch, but still gives him a nod and even a smile. Then she spins on her heel and leads us inside.

Only two rooms have been booked us. One for Haymitch, and one for Peeta and me. As an attendant drops our bags off for us, Peeta turns and gives me an amused smile. “What?” I ask.

“This,” he says, motioning around us. “They put us in a room together.”

I feel my cheeks grow warm. “So? The whole country still thinks we’ve been married since before the Quell, remember?”

“Yeah, but Effie doesn’t,” he says with a gleam in his eye. “I’m surprised this wasn’t too scandalous for her.”

Now I see what he’s getting at. I remember the way she pulled me aside on the Victory Tour, and asked if Peeta and I could please be more “discreet” about our arrangement. As if we were doing anything besides sleeping at the time, anyway.

“Peeta, we’ve been living together for over two years. And we’re adults now.” Besides, given everything we’ve both been through, sex hardly seems like something to worry about anymore

“I know. You’re right,” Peeta says, but there’s still a sparkle in his eye. He looks like he’s about make Effie’s concerns come true, when a knock on the door interrupts us.

We both look at each other. Then Peeta makes his way over to the door, and I hear it slowly creak open. “Oh! Hi!” I hear him say. Whoever is there has caught him completely off guard, but he doesn’t sound terribly upset, either. “Katniss!”

Curious, I step in view of the door. Then my eyes widen. “Mom?”

She looks nervous, but healthy. When she sees me, she smiles, and steps into the room to pull me into a hug. I return it, but I can’t help feeling confused. “I didn’t know you would be here,” I say. We just spoke on the phone yesterday, but she made no mention about being here.

“I wanted to surprise you,” she says, looking a little sheepish. Well, I should say this is a surprise. This is the first time I’ve seen her, in flesh and bone, in person since the war.

There have been a lot of firsts on this trip.

The three of us end up going to dinner together, at one of those fancy places they call a restaurant here in the Capitol. The food is rich compared to what we’re used to, even now, when food is more common than it used to be in the district. Then we return to our rooms and retire for the night. Tomorrow promises to be a big, big, big day.

 

 

The ceremony is a blur. I’m brought up center stage. Peeta, Haymitch, and my mother are brought up on stage, too, where they stand off to the side. Plutarch makes an appearance. But the best surprise, I think, is when I see Cressida and her team will be filming the whole thing. She gives me a huge hug as soon as she sees me.

Paylor, who, I guess, is now President Paylor, delivers a speech herself. Thanking me for my courage, for my sacrifice, and all that I’ve done to free Panem as a nation. And although, she mentions, I may have been unstable when I shot down the wrong president, it was inspiring to see how much I’ve recovered since then. It’s with great honor that she declares my birthday to be a national holiday for all of Panem. Mockingjay Day. Then the broadcast is over, and I’m finally released to Peeta’s waiting arms.

The celebration goes late into the night, and rivals the parties they used to throw for us before the war. I don’t dare leave Peeta’s side the entire time. After being by ourselves for so long, being around this many people is a little overwhelming. When they roll out a giant, elaborate cake, decorated by the best the Capitol has to offer, the only thing I can think about is how I wish it was whatever cake Peeta would have baked for me, instead.

“I want to go home,” I mutter to him as we eat our cake next to a fountain in a courtyard.

“Me, too,” he admits. “It’s not so bad out here, though.”

I glance around. There are a few others in the courtyard with us, but most everyone is inside. “At least it’s quieter here.”

He looks at me for a long time. Then he smiles.

“What?” I ask with a laugh.

“We used to pretend to sneak away together on the Victory Tour. Real or not real?”

“Real,” I say, frowning. This question has caught me off guard. I don’t like reminding him of times when he questioned my love for him.

“I thought so. It’s ironic, isn’t it? Us sneaking away together for real this time, and it’s only to get a little peace and quiet.”

I can’t help laughing myself now, because he’s right, that is ironic.

“Did you look inside yet?” He asks, nodding down at a large envelope I’d been awarded with earlier today.

“No.” I look up at him. “Should I?”

“Why not?” He says.

I put my cake down carefully on the bench we’re sitting on, then pick up the envelope, pulling carefully on the seal as I tear it open. Then I pull the contents out one by one, and look them over. My eyes widen, and I look back to Peeta.

“What?” He asks. He looks concerned.

“We were right,” I breathe.

“About what?” he probes, watching me carefully as he tries to comprehend what I’m talking about.

“About the ban. They’ve.... They’ve lifted it.” I lock eyes with him, and a smile slowly spreads across my face. “Peeta… I can leave District 12.”

His face lights up, and he pulls me to him in a hug. Then we hurry and finish our cake before going to find my mother.

The party has just started to die down when we slip out. Effie wasn’t terribly thrilled with our decision, but in the end, we convinced her to help us anyway. Bags gathered, a car called, and a hovercraft booked, Effie will cover for us as we leave. And then she’ll make the necessary arrangements to thank everyone for throwing us such a nice party. Haymitch decided just to return home after all this is over, so it’s only the three of us in the car. Peeta and I will be flying back to visit my mother’s home in 4.

As the lights from the party grow smaller behind us, Peeta wraps an arm around me. “Well, did you have a good birthday?” he asks.

I think I surprise him with my smile. “The best,” I say. He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t push further. Maybe he understands already. Maybe a huge party, and a ceremony broadcast to the entire country isn’t my style. But I finally got the one thing I’d wanted since the day I was born.

My freedom.


End file.
